The latest Warehouse 13 did contain ( spoilers )

I'm getting a little concerned about how attached I'm getting to this season's over-arching plotline - I never watch shows for plot, and whenever I do, they always let me down (see: BSG, Fringe, Legend of Korra; the only exception I think is TGW so far, and who knows how things'll go in the future? and TSCC, because it died).

I was also watching the pilot with my friend A (who is now hooked to the show), and wow, am I glad that they discarded those versions of Pete and Myka - very Generic Bickering Spy Couple Forced to Work Together, although some elements of them being them are already in place. Pete, especially - he has grown on me as a character, but that's largely because he's very often played as such a loving parody more than anything else. Eddie McClintock has a very... smug face, and I do not think I could have watched a lot of the Suave(ish) Spy Pete Show.

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I keep having amusing encounters with The Youth. The other day a couple of girls - very clearly new to the world of higher education and therefore, not aware that I am not exactly One Of Them anymore - had a very earnest conversation about their love for a rapper known best for his porny, expletive-ridden and often disturbingly misogynistic lyrics. The conversation ended in a high five. I spent the rest of the day cackling inappropriately.

From the library catalogue of 19th century-early 20th century texts, a couple of summaries:

A pastoral story depicting the joys and sorrows, love and disappointments and other experiences of goats and sheep.

A work on the prognostications from the cry of the lizard*, with a foreword by Major T.L. Bomford.

* considered an omen in some circles

I really love my work sometimes.

WOMAN TRYING TO BREAK UP A FIGHT ON THE TRAIN (AND ALSO TRYING TO PROTECT HER RUDE HUSBAND'S HIDE): Stop this, there are ladies present.

ME: Oh no no, what ladies, please go ahead and have that fistfight. I have the best seat.

Possibly I'm not very good at this 'lady' thing.

Also, hi, flist. How have you been? I ran away to the hills again for the weekend. There was, as always, a lot of eating and self-indulgent photography. From now onwards I think I would like to spend every weekend like this.

Things you never want to hear at the gym:

Trainer: Today we're going to have fun with abs! *manic gleam*

Ow.

The Cowardly Dog is a non-violent dog. If I pretend to mock beat up, say, my sister, she will growl in protest, or hang to my hand to prevent me from striking (while also vigorously wagging her tail). If both of us pretend to mock beat up each other, she will look very confused while simultaneously growling at us and wagging her tail. I can only imagine how she would have reacted if she were around when we were kids and prone to having real fights.

Do dogs watch television? Because the Cowardly Dog is watching lions on Animal Planet with my mother and getting more agitated by the minute.

There was a time when I had a life. On the internets and off it. I had friends. I had work to do. I had term papers to write.

Now all I do is play the damn Mafia Game on Facebook (why won't my energy refresh dammit?).

There was a quaint gentleman who would visit the bookfair every year. Unlike most of us, he didn't go there to buy/sell books, or to even hang out and eat junk food. He went there to propagate a scientific theory: the sun goes around the earth once every year. He would have complicated diagrams to prove his theory, and little pamphlets that explained things in detail. He would even draw graffiti in some places to prove his point. I would watch him curiously every year, but I never quite gathered the courage to go and speak to him.

This was, of course, a while ago. I've had a busy few years, shuttling between two cities and in the meantime I'd forgotten all about him. I came home last Wednesday for ten days; today, I was pleasantly surprised when I spotted this bit of graffiti: 'The sun goes round the earth once a year. Challenge for scientists!'

It's good to know that some things are still the same.

Note to hospital administrators: do not paint your hospital a shade of hideous orange. Especially when you advertise the said hospital as a haven for people with a weak heart.

What would Cuddy say? *shakes head*

I lost my purse (and the Very Important Things in it) in a library and spent an evening running about and investigating, and then, finally, in the police station, filing a missing complaint so that I can apply afresh for a variety of things. Watching the policemen at work was a little like watching Sergeant Colon at work: it's not that they don't try to help - it's just that they're not very good at it.

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The night before G. and I had gone out to buy A's birthday cake (chocolate - awesome). We ran into a black man dressed head to toe in Rastafarian gear, Bob Marley on his t-shirt and on the multicoloured beret he was wearing. He was talking on the phone and had along with him, on a red leash, a pretty (mostly) black rabbit. A RABBIT.

I may have stared. The rabbit was very cute, and completely comfortable in spite of being in a crowded public place.

*

I figured out how to use bluetooth on my laptop last night. After two years.